“The old dame, I could see, was beginnin’ to get weak in the knees and was walkin’ about as unsteady as the three gobs behind us.  So me and the marine each grabbed an arm and she sez, ‘Mercy,’ and tried to start a smile.  I guess it was pretty hard goin’, because the smile didn’t get far.

“Well, anyway, we kep’ right on and passed that stone lion out there and went right through the gates, the boys all marchin’ strong and the motor-bike makin’ one hell of a noise aft.  When we get through the gates I fall back and I sez to the gob, ‘Rathbone,’ I sez, ’ask the lady where we’re headed and if she trusts the driver.’  So Rathbone moves up and has quite a parlez-vous with her.

“‘Well,’ I sez, ‘what’s she say?’

“‘She sez,’ sez Rathbone, ‘that we’re goin’ to bury him in a field out here, and that there ain’t no priest will bury him and there ain’t no cemetery she can bury him in.’

“‘That’s funny,’ I sez—­’too poor, I guess.  Well, anyway, it’s a shame—­I’ll say it is—­it’s a shame.’

“‘Yes,’ sez Rathbone, slowly, as if he was thinkin’—­’yes, it’s a damn shame!’”

“And the other two gobs who wasn’t as sober as Rathbone, they sez, too, ‘Yes, it’s a damn shame.’”

“‘That makes the navy unanimous,’ I sez, and then I begin to work my bean.  I was still workin’ it and it was respondin’ about as well as one of them black Kabyles that are pretendin’ to help build our station at Lacanau—­I was still workin’ it, when the old hearse swings to the right through a gate in a stone wall and brings up short in a field.  There was grass in the field and daisies and things, and a lotta tin crosses stuck on mounds that I guessed was graves.  It woulda been a pretty cheerful old field, I guess, if they’d let it alone, but them tin crosses looked pretty sick and the paint was peelin’ off the tin flowers that people had stuck on the graves, and I guess the head gardener wasn’t much of a hand at weedin’.”

“Well, anyway, we all line up in a sorta circle and every one looks pretty downhearted and the three gobs gets perfectly sober, which was a relief.  Then Napoleon One climbs down from his box and says somethin’ in French to the old widow and points to two birds who’re diggin’ a hole half-way acrost the field.  Rathbone sez that he sez that that is the grave and that the two birds is the grave-diggers and pall-bearers combined.”

“‘They are, are they?’ I sez.  ’This is a military funeral, ain’t it?  A military funeral conducted by the navy with the army for pall-bearers.  And I call on Sergeant Reilly to back me up.’

“‘Shure,’ sez Reilly, ‘but who’ll be providin’ the priest?’

“Well, when he sez that my old bean give a sort of throb, and I sez:  ‘Don’t bother your nut about the priest.  He’ll be forthcomin’ when and if needed.’